


Love is an Anchor

by Lyri



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I wrote too much lol, M/M, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, and, sorry I kinda went heavy on the angst lol, technically underage but nothing sexual happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-20 13:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13147683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyri/pseuds/Lyri
Summary: It’s just a foregone conclusion that Derek and Stiles will be soulmates some day…right?





	Love is an Anchor

**Author's Note:**

> First, let me apologize to my Secret Santa recipient. I made this WAY too long and then I had to cut it in a really bad place to fit the challenge, but I fixed it!! See?!
> 
> Secondly, this is kind of a departure from my usual style. I'm not ignorant about the fact that I do seem to lean heavily on the dialogue between my characters, and when I started writing this, I wasn't going to do anything different. I started in this style, thinking that I could get the meat of the story written and then go back and flesh it out, but I ended up really loving writing in this thought-heavy way, I enjoyed getting into Derek's head in a way that none of my other fics have given me the chance to. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

Derek Hale meets Mieczyslaw Stilinski when they are seven and four respectively.

“Mom! Mom!” Derek cries, dragging the little boy behind him as he races across the playground to where his mom is sitting on a bench next to a lady he doesn't know. He skids to a stop in front of them and drags the younger boy forwards. “This is Stiles.” He beams brightly at the two women, proud of his introduction.

But the woman who isn't Derek's mom looks at Derek's mom in confusion. “Um, his name is Mieczyslaw,” she corrects, not unkindly, and Derek makes a face.

“Yeah, but I can't say that and he can't either, so I'm going to call him Stiles.”

The two women share a grin. “Is that so?” Derek's mom says and Derek knows that tone in her voice, knows he's made her laugh at something he's said, but he doesn't know what it could be.

He just made a new friend.

“Stiles, huh?” the other woman, who Derek supposes is Stiles' mom, asks with a grin. 

Stiles toes at the grass beneath his feet. “Better than Mischief.”

Stiles' mom sighs. “I knew this would happen when I gave him that name, but my father always was the king of the guilt trip and it wasn't worth arguing over. I suppose Stiles is a good a name as any. I'm sure your dad will love it. Stiles.”

Stiles smiles brilliantly and takes Derek's hand again. “Thanks, Mama, hi, Derek's mama! Come on, let's go play again! You can be Superman and I'll be Batman!”

They run off again and their mothers share a knowing look.

“Perhaps we should exchange numbers?” Talia suggests pulling out her cellphone.

Claudia nods with a smile.

  
  


///

  
  


After that day, it's like they become inseparable, and it becomes a foregone conclusion that they'll share a soul-mark one day.

A soul-mark comes in during puberty, a symbol that appears on the skin like a birthmark that represents the bond and relationship a person will have with the one who shares their soul-mark.

Derek's parents' soul-mark is a wolf, symbolizing their strong commitment to each other and their family and Derek can't wait to see what kind of soul-mark he and Stiles will share.

“You think it'll be something cool?” Stiles asks him one day, his head hanging off Derek's bed. How he can watch TV like that, Derek will never know.

“Do I think what will be cool?” he asks. He's not really paying attention to Stiles, trying to finish his project for English. It's a blackout poem made from a page from he took from The Hobbit.

Yeah, Stiles had kind of yelled at him a little bit when he tore the page out, but he's not really thinking about that.

“Our soul-mark,” Stiles says, his tone suggesting he thinks Derek's an idiot for needing the clarification. He's nine, he kind of thinks everyone is an idiot when they ask him what the hell he's talking about. Stiles tends to ramble a lot. Derek kind of finds it endearing, but he's not going to mention that.

Derek shrugs in answer. “I dunno.” Seriously, he's twelve, he hasn't even had a hint that'll he'll start puberty anytime soon, so his – and Stiles' – soul-mark is probably not coming in in the near future.

“Come on, you haven't even thought about it?” Stiles pushes. “I think it'll be something cool, like a car or an action figure!”

Derek scoffs. “That doesn't even represent us at all.”

“Soccer ball? Ooh, Batman symbol!”

“I really hope I don't have run around for most of my life wearing a Batman symbol on my chest or something.”

“Why?! Batman's the coolest thing ever!”

“Superman's way better, Stiles. He can shoot lasers out of his eyes!”

“Batman has a Batcave!”

Derek rolls his eyes. They've been having this argument since the day they met, and he knows that they are never going to settle it.

It makes him feel a little warm inside, knowing that they'll be able to have this argument for the rest of their lives.

“As long as it's not something lame like Laura got, I don't care what it is.”

Stiles laughs so hard he falls off the bed.

Laura, Derek's older sister, had recently found her soul-mark, a set of inter-locked hearts on her ankle.

It's supposed to represent how much she and her soulmate love each other – or will love each other, once she finds him or her.

But for Laura, hard-core, straight-edge Laura, who wears nothing but black and dyes purple streaks in her black hair, it's pretty much a death sentence.

Good thing she can cover it up with her biker boots.

“We'll have something cool,” Derek promises and Stiles nods in agreement.

“Like the moon!” Stiles agrees, his interest in astronomy not going dissipating.

And, yeah, Derek thinks, the moon would be cool.

  
  


///

  
  


When Stiles' mom dies, Derek mourns right along with the Stilinskis.

Claudia was always like a second mom to Derek, ever since he was seven years old, and to lose her is like someone carving a hole into his chest and ripping out a vital piece.

But it's nothing to how Stiles is feeling.

He locks himself in his room and won't let anyone in, so Derek sets up camp outside in the hallway and plays Marvel movies on his laptop loud enough for Stiles to hear through the door.

“I met Claudia my senior year of college,” Noah Stilinski says, easing himself down into the floor next to Derek. He looks tired, worn out completely, and there's whiskey on his breath that Derek chooses not to dwell on, just pauses the movie so that Stiles can hear his father talk.

“She was a freshman, hadn't been in the States for long, and I loved her the second I laid eyes on her. Didn't matter if her soul-mark matched mine or not, I just knew that she was the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with.” He touches the tree on the back of his right hand with the tips of his fingers. It's black and harsh looking, signifying the death of a soulmate and Derek hates looking at it. He can't imagine what the Sheriff must think, knowing he'll see it every day for the rest of his life.

“When I saw the tree on her palm, an exact match to mine, it was the happiest day of my life. I wanted to drag her down to the courthouse right then and there, but her father...well, he wasn't exactly the easiest man to get along with.”

Derek scoffs. While he never met Stiles' paternal grandfather, he forced his own daughter to name her only son Mieczyslaw out of some sort of pride or spitefulness. He's not sorry he missed out on the honor.

“He was so old fashioned,” Noah continues, “so outraged at the age difference between me and his daughter, even though he was six years older than his own soulmate, Claudia's mom. He insisted that she finished college before we finalized the bond, like I was going to prevent her from doing whatever she wanted, being whatever or whoever she wanted. Claudia was his only child, he just wanted to keep her to himself, get her to move back to Poland and leave me behind.” He smiles at Derek. “It's why she was so determined that the two of you get to know each other, build a relationship, she never wanted either one of you to think that she didn't support you as soulmates.”

Derek manages a choked off laugh. “She allowed me to change Stiles' name when I was seven. I don't think anyone ever doubted that she was our biggest supporter.”

“She was planning your wedding, you know? She wanted to go all out, matching white suits, she and Talia were going to walk you and Stiles down the aisle, she even had a selection of rings for you guys to choose from. She was always in your corner, Derek, don't ever forget that and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“We haven't even gotten our soul-marks yet and everyone already has us married off.”

“I don't think there's a question in anyone's mind that your marks will be identical when they do show up. Claudia believed that more than anyone.”

“I miss her,” Derek tells him in a choked whisper. He feels guilty just for saying the words out loud, because Stiles has lost his mother and Noah has lost his wife and soulmate. What he feels is nothing compared to that. 

Noah just wraps an arm around his shoulders and nods against the top of his head. “Me, too, son.”

The door to Stiles' room opens and the boy pops his head outside and Derek smiles up at him. Stiles eyes are red and puffy, his skin pale and drawn. He looks tired and shaken up and all Derek can do is hold out his arms.

Stiles falls forward on his knees, burying himself between his father and his future soulmate, his body wracked by sobs.

They stay that way for a long time, the three of them huddled on the floor of a hallway that isn't as clean as Claudia kept it.

It's only when Stiles' stomach starts to rumble and Talia and Spencer let themselves into the house, calling out that they've brought food that they break apart.

Derek stands and pulls Stiles up with him, smiling at both of them. 

They might have lost an essential member of their family, but with Derek's parents downstairs, making themselves at home, Derek knows they'll always have people to turn to.

  
  


///

  
  


Stiles meets Scott McCall second year of middle school when he transfers to Beacon Hills after his parents' divorce. Derek's already in high school by that point and already lamenting the lack of time he and Stiles have to spend together, now that they're at different schools.

Derek has his own friends, of course, he's not one of those people who lives for their soulmate and nothing more. But when Stiles starts blowing Derek off in order to spend time with Scott, it hurts Derek in a way that he didn't think it was possible to be hurt.

He tries to just...hang around when they're hanging out, because at least then he gets to spend time with Stiles. But Scott doesn't like him, that much is clear, is intimidated by his presence and Stiles is left awkwardly trying to bridge the gap between them that Derek knows will never be closed.

It makes Derek feel a little sad, knowing that there's a part of Stiles' life that he'll never be a part of after all, all of his friends get along with Stiles – well, mostly, but honesty, Derek isn't really sure that Boyd likes anyone who isn't a blonde firecracker named Erica.

In the end, he gives up. He knows that he and Stiles have the rest of their lives to spend time together, and he's only freaking out now because they're at different schools. Soon, Stiles will be at the high school, too, and then they'll be off to college and he'll be able to forget all about the time Stiles didn't turn up to their weekly dinner with Derek's parents because he was playing video games with Scott.

“It'll get better,” Talia tells him, carding her hand through his hair. “He's just young, stretching his wings.”

“What if Scott's his soulmate?” Derek asks lowly, finally admitting the one thing that's been plaguing him since the day Stiles came home from school declaring Scott the coolest person he's ever met.

Talia, though, laughs loudly. “Oh, honey, don't be so ridiculous. Stiles loves you, he's _your_ soulmate. There's nothing on this earth that will convince me otherwise.”

“Kinda doesn't feel that he is when I haven't seen him all week and he's ignoring my texts.”

Talia sighs. “I'll admit, most people don't meet their soulmates when they're so young, so they've already done the whole school friends thing. You and Stiles are different, though, you met as kids, you've spent most of your lives in each others pockets. Maybe you both need this, to grow a little away from each other. It's not going to change how you feel about each other.”

Derek is skeptical. “You sure?”

“I'm positive.”

  
  


///

  
  


So Derek takes his mom's advice and joins the basketball team and the swim team. 

The swim team meets for practice before school Monday's, Wednesday's and Friday's, the basketball team after school Tuesday's and Thursday's and Saturday mornings. It's hard work at first, but soon Derek's craving the competition and the adrenaline rush he gets from hitting the court or diving into the pool.

He's better at basketball, that much is clear, but he wants to at least try to get better at swimming and he starts looking for tips on the internet and he finds out that swimmers, apparently, shave their bodies.

Laura and Cora laugh at him so loud and hard that they're sick with it but Derek's perseveres, shaving every inch of hair from his body except what's on his head. It doesn't make his lap times any faster, but he does make a startling discovery when he's shaving his left armpit.

“Stiles!”

He doesn't think about knocking, just bursts into Stiles' room, excitement getting in the way of everything else. “Stiles, look! I got my soul-mark!”

He's already ripped off his t-shirt and stuck his arm in the air to show off the broken star he'd uncovered when he notices Scott sitting sitting next to Stiles on the bed and his mood instantly sours.

Stiles, however, is more than excited enough for the both of them and he bounces off the bed in a tangle of limbs.

“Seriously?! Oh, my God! Let me see, let me see!” He's smiling so wide that Derek can feel it like a brand and so he just stands there and let's Stiles inspect his mark.

“Why should Stiles care?” Scott asks, jealousy coloring his tone so brightly that even Derek notices, but he's saved from trying to come up with a snarky reply by Stiles snorting.

“Duh, because he's my soulmate?” he phrases the answer like a question, like he's trying not to be too hard on Scott. “I've told you that a million times already, Scotty-Boy. This is the mark I'm gonna be getting in a couple years, I deserve to see what it looks like up close and personal.”

Stiles bobs his eyebrows obnoxiously at Derek and the older boy can do nothing but roll his eyes in fond amusement.

“Oh,” Scott says, his tone sounding almost absentminded, “I kinda thought that was just, you know...wishful thinking or something.”

Stiles snorts again. “Please, I've known since I was three that this big guy was my soulmate. No getting away from it. What do you think a broken star means?” He sobers up suddenly pulling away from the mark to look Derek in the eyes. “You think that means we're not gonna last or something? 'Cause it's broken?” His tone sounding every day of his thirteen years.

“No,” Derek answers, voice confident and sure. “It could mean that...that we know we're not perfect, that we're a little bent and broken, but we're perfect for each other anyway.”

Stiles grins. “Maybe it means you're gonna be a big basketball star and then bust your knee or something and I'm gonna have to be the one to take care of you because you can't even climb the stairs by yourself.”

“Works for me.”

“I just hope that my mark is somewhere cooler than my armpit. Lame, man.”

Derek shoves him lightly back towards the bed, grin fading a little as he catches Scott's eye.

There's something different in his gaze, like he's looking at Derek and seeing something he didn't see before and he gives Derek a tight smile.

He's trying, Derek guesses, and realizes he should do the same.

  
  


///

  
  


Things get a little better after that. Stiles stops spending all of his free time with Scott and Derek quits the swim team – no matter how much he tries, he'll always be better at basketball and so he starts throwing everything he has into the sport, pinning his hopes on a scholarship for college. Stiles has the brains to get into whatever college he wants, when the time comes, though Derek already knows that he's going to go to whatever college Derek ends up at. If he can get a scholarship, it means he can get into a decent college, which in turn means that Stiles won't have to take a big step down when he inevitably follows his soulmate.

Scott warms up to him, too, especially when puberty hits early for him and the small, delicate arrow etches itself onto the inside of his upper arm.

It points towards his left armpit and it makes Stiles cackle delightedly.

But the amusement wears off as soon as Scott is out of earshot. “I don't think he was hoping it would be me,” he tells Derek honestly. “I just think...I think maybe he was hoping that neither of us would get a soul-mark? It didn't work so well for his mom, you know? Maybe he just doesn't want one.”

Scott's mom is one of those people who didn't marry her soulmate. Her mark – a flour-di-lis behind her right ear – didn't match Scott's father's mark, but they married anyway and their subsequent divorce is what prompted Melissa to move to Beacon Hills. Scott's always hated how much his parents fought, how much his dad drank, and blamed it on the fact that their marks were so wildly different.

Apparently, until his own mark appeared, he'd signed himself up for a life without one.

Derek knows that that could still happen – there's nothing suggesting that everyone will find their soulmates, Derek's uncle Peter is proof of that – but hypothetically opting out and actually being opted in are two very different things.

“Plus, how cliche is his mark? An arrow? Please, our mark is so much cooler than that.”

Derek scratches at his mark, the hair grown back over it now since he quit the team, hiding it from view. “Yeah, of course it is.”

  
  


///

  
  


Derek gets in to UC Irvine on a basketball scholarship. It's not the greatest of schools for Stiles, but they sit down and talk about it with their parents when the acceptance letter comes in.

“Caltech isn't all that far away,” Spencer, Derek's father, offers gently. “After your mandatory first year on campus, the two of you could get a place somewhere in between. It's not ideal, I know, but it could work for however long Derek's schooling takes. Whatever it is he eventually decides to do.” He elbows Derek with a grin. It's been a point of conversation the whole of Derek's senior year, how he has no idea what he wants to do in college.

He's still no closer to figuring it out.

“Or I could just go to UC Irvine and stop all the drama,” Stiles counters. The parental units sigh loudly and Derek shakes his head.

“No, Stiles, if you can get into a private college, that's what you should do. I'm not going to let you take a hit on your education just so that you can be near me.”

“Alright, fine, but you get that this all might be a moot point, right? There's no guarantee that I'll even get in to Caltech.”

“You can at least try,” Noah says. “If you don't make it, then we'll talk about UC Irvine.”

“I'm applying there anyway, doesn't hurt to have a backup.”

Derek manages a laugh, even though he's terrified by the idea of leaving Stiles at all.

  
  


///

  
  


By the time he's moved into his dorm room three months later, Stiles is sixteen and his soul-mark still hasn't shown up.

  
  


///

  
  


Derek has been at college for three months when he gets a call from Stiles.

It's been fun so far; he gets along with his roommate and he'd found out after a few days that Erica, his friend Boyd's soulmate, lived across the hall. The fact that he had someone from home living so close, when Stiles and everyone else were so far away, helped him feel a little more settled in his new environment.

Except now that settled feeling is fading fast because Stiles called him and isn't saying anything.

“Stiles?” he asks, his voice gentle, but his heart is beating wildly in his chest and his hands feel sweaty and suddenly it's hard to breath.

Stiles sniffs and now Derek knows that something's wrong, something terrible. Stiles hasn't cried since his mother died.

“Stiles, you're scaring me.”

“ _It doesn't match.”_

It's just three little words, but they hurt more than a sword through the heart ever could. Derek can't breathe, his chest feels too tight to pull in oxygen and the there's darkness creeping in around the edges of his vision.

“ _Derek?”_ Stiles calls, his voice sounding tinny and far away, small and hurt. 

But Derek can't, he can't deal with this right now.

He hangs up and drops his phone, following it down to the floor.

  
  


///

  
  


Derek doesn't go back home after that. He doesn't really do much of anything, really, and his grades tank. It's like his whole reason for existing was for Stiles to be his soulmate and now that that isn't possible, it's like he's lost all motivation.

“ _Come home,”_ his dad asks in another one of his ever more pleading phone calls. _“Just...you need to get your head on straight again, son. You can take the year off, reapply again. Or go somewhere different. Your life doesn't have to stop just because...”_

He can't even says it, Derek thinks to himself. His whole life has been tied to Stiles, their families so intertwined that it's going to be almost impossible to separate them at this point. Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthday parties, all of them are planned with the knowledge that the other family will already be included. Hell, at this point, they don't even bother with invitations anymore.

“I can't,” he answers, his voice tight with barely repressed emotion, “Stiles is...I can't see him, I don't want to. When he's gone, I'll...”

“ _Derek, he doesn't leave for college for almost two years. You can't stay gone for that long, your mom won't let you.”_

“She can't exactly stop me, Dad.”

“ _What are you going to do? Where are you going to live when the school year ends?”_

“I'll get an apartment or a house, some of my friends might want to stay here, too, we can split the rent.”

He's fairly sure his roommate, Isaac, doesn't want to even step foot in his home state ever again, after he'd explained about the abuse his own father had subjected him to over the years.

“ _And how are you going to pay for an apartment?”_

“I'll get a job! The same thing millions of other college students have done. I'm not exactly in a unique situation here, Dad!”

Spencer sighs. _“I know I can't stop you doing this, Derek, but please. Just because your marks don't match doesn't mean that you can Stiles can't have a wonderful life together. Anyone who looks at you can see how in love you are, how perfect you are for each other. Don't let something a silly as a little picture on your skin ruin the rest of your lives.”_

Derek shakes his head even though he knows his father can't see him. “I won't do that to Stiles. I won't stand in the way of him finding his perfect person just because I want to keep him for myself. That's not fair and I refuse to be that selfish. And, you know, my soulmate is obviously out there somewhere, and they must be amazing, they have to be if they're somehow more perfect for me than Stiles.”

Spencer laughs but it sounds forced, even over the phone. _“I'm sure whoever your destined for will be a wonderful person, Derek. I hope we'll see you soon.”_

He hangs up without giving Derek the chance to return the farewell and he stands in the middle of his dorm room and sighs.

“You have a paper due for you ethics class tomorrow and basketball practice in an hour.”

The sound of Isaac's voice makes Derek jump. He'd forgotten his roommate was even there, the phone call stressing him out so much.

“What?” he asks after a long few seconds of silence.

Isaac rolls his eyes, then rolls himself off his bed to stand in front of Derek. “I heard what you said to your dad. You don't want to go back home in case you see this Stiles person, but if you don't do something, you're gonna flunk out. You haven't even been to practice this week, you'll lose your scholarship if you don't do something.”

Derek scrapes his fingers through his hair. “Well, you just said it yourself, I have a paper due. I can't exactly do that and go to practice.”

Isaac sighs like a long suffering parent. “Your friend, Erica, her roommate is in your ethics class, right?”

“Yeah,” Derek answers slowly. He doesn't really speak to Kira much, they just sit next to each other in class because they literally don't know anyone else and Erica, Derek's friend from home, is sort of their common denominator. 

“I'll get her to help me, we'll write your paper, you just go to training.”

Derek blinks. “And you want to do this for me because...?”

Isaac just shrugs. “You're a half-decent roommate, if you flunk out, I'll probably end up with someone shitty and I don't want a shitty roommate.”

Derek gives up. “I'm going to practice, you...do whatever you want with my paper.”

Isaac smiles, like this is the best thing he can think of the do in his spare time. “What's the password for your laptop? I'll submit your paper when it's done and, you know, check your other classes.”

And that right there is the main reason why Derek hasn't even started his paper or checked anything online since that fateful phone call, because it hurts to type that word.

“Stiles,” he says, his voice tight with emotion. “Stiles with an 'i'. But, uh, if you can figure out how to change it, can you...can you do that, please? Just write whatever you change it to on a notepad or something.”

Isaac just nods once, like he knows how much Derek is hurting. He's been living with Derek through all of this, he's probably an expert by now.

He smirks at Derek. “I can change it to whatever I want?”

Derek just grabs his gear and heads for the door.

  
  


///

  
  


Isaac changes his password to 'Derek likes balls' all one word, all lower case.

Derek doesn't really have it in him to change it to something else.

  
  


///

  
  


Things get better after that. Derek's grades pick up, with a little help from Isaac and Kira while Erica provides snacks for their study dates. She's an art student, her strengths don't really play well with the classes he's taking. But she's his one solid connection to Beacon Hills and he can't lose her now.

The basketball team doesn't make the playoffs, but Derek passes all his classes, so he takes the win and vows to be better next year.

The four of them get a small house off campus after the school year finishes, Derek and Isaac for obvious reasons, ones that Isaac still doesn't want to talk about even though everyone already knows about Derek's issues. Erica moves in with them because she lands a job at a local gallery and she doesn't want to leave, and Kira, because her family is from the East coast and she says she just can't be bothered leaving California.

But it works, the four of them. Derek, Isaac and Kira get jobs nearby, they have movie marathons every weekend, and it's decided that, under no circumstances, is Kira allowed to cook because she can burn water.

But it's good and Derek can pretend he's happy for a while. Boyd comes to visit Erica and pointedly doesn't mention Stiles at all, but it doesn't matter, it's not like Derek isn't stalking his Facebook page every spare second. 

He'd unfriended Stiles and all the rest of his friends from Beacon Hills who aren't Boyd or Erica, because he didn't want updates on Stiles, but it doesn't matter because Derek can't stay away no matter what.

Scott has found his soulmate, a beautiful brunette called Allison who smiles in their picture together like a Disney princess. Stiles has made friends with Lydia, a girl he was always jealous of, because she was just that little bit smarter than he was. There are other people that Derek doesn't know, Jackson, Danny, Ethan and Aiden, Liam, Mason, Tracey and Hayden. Even Derek's sister, Cora, pops up more than once. Stiles is popular, more popular than he was when Derek was around and wanted nothing more than to keep Stiles all to himself.

The one thing that Derek does notice is that Stiles hasn't found his soulmate yet.

He's not an idiot, he heard what his dad said, he knows there are people out there who never find their soulmate and marry anyway, people like Scott's mom, though that didn't end well for her. He could probably, if they really, really wanted to, marry Stiles anyway, but he knows he would spend the rest of his life looking for someone with a broken star and he just can't do it. And he would never deprive Stiles of finding his soulmate. It's something too important in this world. And Stiles deserves to have the best life possible.

It just so happens that his life doesn't include Derek.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


///

  
  


When the new school year starts up, Derek decides he wants to try dating.

The first time he goes on a date, it's with a girl named Paige. He meets her in the dining hall on campus when he stops to get a snack before his next class and runs into her – literally. Her cream sweater ends up covered in his coffee as he just stands there and stammers an apology.

In the end, though, she starts laughing, then cringes, complaining about going to her music lesson in a soggy sweater. Derek gives her the shirt off his back and then asks her to dinner to apologize.

Paige is all dark hair, dark eyes and pale skin, moles dotting her face just like the boy he refuses to think about. But where he was loud and present, Paige is quiet and unassuming, except when she's talking about music.

Their relationship is the epitome of innocence, neither of them having anything to compare it to, no road map to follow.

The first time Derek kisses Paige is the first time he's kissed anyone and he's honestly a little underwhelmed, but he knows it's because he was expecting his first kiss to be with his soulmate. 

But Paige is nice, sweet and funny and someone Derek could really see himself growing old with...if it wasn't for the music note sitting on her collarbone for the world to see.

She talks about it a lot, how special it'll be when she finds her soulmate, how awesome Derek is for being willing to date her when he knows that it can't ever go anywhere. It grates on Derek's nerves, and he doesn't mention the fact that he's not actively looking for his soulmate, that he's happy being with Paige.

Erica tries to make him break up with her, tells him he's just torturing himself like this, and the thing is, he knows she's right. However, before he can make a decision either way, Paige doesn't show up for the movie they wanted to see, and she doesn't answer her phone when he calls.

Derek grow more and more concerned the longer he doesn't hear from her, so he decides to go to her dorm room.

The sock on the doorknob should have been his first clue – when Boyd came to visit when they were still living on campus, there was a purple, sparkly unicorn sock on Erica's doorknob for almost two days. Derek had had to sleep on the floor so that Kira could have his bed.

Derek knocks on the door and frowns at the giggles spilling out from behind it, and then there's Paige, hair disheveled and belting a robe around her waist.

“Derek,” she gasps, clutching her robe tighter and Derek knows what's going on before she even opens her mouth to explain.

She's found her soulmate.

His name is Amir and he's a transfer to her music theory class. She doesn't apologize, because she knew this could happen – _would_ happen. Derek just smiles and walks away.

“I told you to break up with her,” Erica tells him later. They're sitting on the couch, Kira on one side of him, Erica on the other, Isaac sitting on the coffee table in front of them.

“Yes, you're very wise,” Isaac snarks with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, I was right, wasn't I?” she snaps back.

“It's done now, it doesn't matter,” Derek says, just to stop the bickering.

“What are you going to do now?” Kira asks.

“Join a monastery?” he says with a shrug, but the truth is, he just doesn't know.

  
  


///

  
  


Actually, the next thing Derek does is meet a woman named Braeden. 

She's older than Derek by a few years, but she's got an easy nature that's hard not to like.

She also doesn't have a soul-mark.

“It's no big deal,” she says dismissively, “can't miss what you never had, right?”

Derek scratches at the broken star in his armpit, his thoughts drifting to his uncle, Peter.

Peter's in his late thirties now and never found his soulmate. His mark – an old fashioned shield in the crook of his elbow – is still healthy and pink, meaning his soulmate is still out there somewhere. He doesn't know if Peter didn't want a soulmate or if he was just unlucky enough not to find him or her, but he seems happy and content in his life nonetheless. He even managed to have a child and his life's mission is to annoy Derek as much as possible.

Derek doesn't know if he's capable of living like that, if he's capable of living his life knowing that his soulmate is out there somewhere, just waiting for him to find them. Actively trying to ignore them seems counterproductive to having a happy and fulfilled life.

Braeden smiles at him when she realizes the issues he's trying to reconcile within himself. "I can recommend some support groups for you, if you want? They're for people who have lost their soulmates, or get rejected by them maybe. It might be a good place for you to get some perspective."

Derek agrees only because he doesn't really know what else to do, but after less than an hour into the first meeting he attends, it's quite obvious that this isn't the place for Derek.

The place is full of people whose soul-marks have turned wilted and black, their soulmates clearly having passed away, including a girl no older than fourteen with a dark black clock face sitting prominently under her left ear. There are also a few people with dark-red soul-marks, indicating that their soulmate rejected the bond for one reason or another, and suddenly, Derek feels like a fraud.

He's not like these people, these people who actually need the support that this group is providing for them. Derek is just upset that his soulmate isn't the person he wanted it to be. He's whining and feeling sorry for himself over nothing when these people have lost their future - or what their future could be at least.

With a smile at the elderly woman sitting next to him, Derek rises to his feet and heads towards the exit. He stands just outside the door for a few seconds, breathing in the sharp heat and basking in the sunshine.

"Kinda depressing, huh?"

He startles at the sound of the voice and turns to see a woman leaning against the brick wall next to the door, cigarette in hand. She smiles at him when he meets her eyes and pushes herself to stand. "That place, not really what I was hoping for when my friend told me I might want to check it out, get over my soul-mark hangups."

"Braeden?" he asks and she nods.

"Big in to tough love is Braeden," she admits with a smile.

Derek sighs. "She has a point. I don't have it half as bad as those people in that room. I'm just being...I don't know, feeling sorry for myself I guess."

She eyes him carefully, like she's looking for something, a fault or a redeeming quality, Derek doesn't know, but after a few seconds, she smiles and tilts her head to the side. "You want to go grab a cup of coffee?"

Derek doesn't have anything better to do, other than some research for a project he has due in history that he can put off for another few hours, so he agrees and follows her to a small coffee shop across the street.

  
  


///

  
  


She introduces herself as Jennifer Blake, a high school English teacher from a small town not too far away. When Derek asked her what sort of soul-mark issue she had that prompted Braeden to point her in this direction, Jennifer just laughs with a tinkling lightness.

"Nothing like what those poor creatures in that room are trying to deal with," she says, taking a sip of her latte. "I don't have a soul-mark. It's not a big deal, I'm not as upset as I was in my teen years, but it's still something that's hard to come to terms with, you know? Knowing that I'll never find my perfect person?"

"You can still marry, there's nothing to say you won't find love with someone else."

"I know that, but it's still different, you know? Being happy and being perfectly happy."

"Yeah, I guess." No, he doesn't 'guess' he knows, because it's exactly that difference that's preventing him from even trying to make it work with Stiles.

"So what about you? What has you seeking out enlightenment or whatever?"

"Nothing as harsh as that," he says with a small laugh. "My soulmate wasn't who I thought it would be. I'm finding it hard to come to terms with that."

"What does that mean?"

So Derek spends the thirty minutes telling Jennifer everything. Maybe it's because she's a stranger and it's nice to get an outside perspective on his issues, even though he's just gone through all of this with Braeden.

But Jennifer seems different. She doesn't try to give Derek advice or ply him with platitudes about how it's all going to be alright and he'll find his soulmate eventually, she just mutters "that fucking sucks" and reaches out to squeeze Derek's hand.

They exchange numbers and email and Derek sends her some information he's found about people living without a soul-mark and when she asks him to have dinner with her, he finds it's easy to agree.

  
  


///

  
  


He wouldn't say it's the start of a beautiful friendship, whatever it is he has with Jennifer, but it is nice to have someone to talk to who understands Derek's point of view a little better.

That's not to say he doesn't love his friends and housemates, but with Erica having found her soulmate in high school and Isaac and Kira still in that blissful state of 'it'll happen eventually', Jennifer is like a breath of fresh air and it's refreshing to be around someone who isn't constantly wondering when they'll meet their soulmate or wondering what their marks could mean.

And then Jennifer asks him to have Thanksgiving dinner with her.

“I'm sorry,” Derek says with a shake of his head, “my housemates and I have this tradition for Thanksgiving, it's kind of a personal thing.”

Okay, so this was only the third time they were actually taking part in said tradition, but the idea behind it is still solid and Derek knows that Erica would balk at the idea of having Jennifer join them.

To be honest, he's a little uncomfortable with the idea of her being there himself and he tries his best to put her off.

“Come on, you don't wanna spend Thanksgiving with a bunch of college kids.” He tries for a laugh but he knows it comes off forced and harsh.

Jennifer's smiles doesn't reach her eyes either.

  
  


///

  
  


The tradition goes ahead as planned.

The four of them sacked out in the living room wearing old pj's and watching old Eighties movies and eating five different types of take-out.

“What are you thankful for?” Isaac asks from his beanbag in the corner, a slice of pizza in one hand while he awkwardly tries to scoop out a spoonful of sweet and sour pork from the carton on his lap with the other.

“That people still deliver on Thanksgiving,” Erica laughs.

Isaac rolls his eyes. “Seriously.”

“Friends,” Kira says earnestly. “Without you guys, I would have been alone these last few years. And, yeah, I might have found other friends, but I wouldn't have a family and you guys mean a lot to me. So, yeah, I'm thankful for you guys.”

“Sap,” Erica says after a few seconds of heartfelt silence and they collapse into giggles.

 _The Breakfast Club_ ends and Kira leaves her cocoon of blankets on the couch with Erica to switch it out for something else. “Pick one,” she says, holding up two DVD's, _Dirty Dancing_ and _Back to the Future_.

“ _Future,_ how is this even a question?” Isaac calls and Erica reaches over to high-five him.

Derek and Kira share a fond smile – they'll always bond over cheesy rom-coms.

Just as the opening credits start, the doorbell rings, and Kira pauses to look at everyone else.

“I didn't invite anyone!” Isaac exclaims and a sick feeling pools in Derek's stomach.

“It's Jennifer,” he says to the shock of his friends and he throws up his hands. “I didn't invite her! She asked if I wanted to spend Thanksgiving with her and I told her that we had our thing.” He sighs. “I knew she didn't take it very well.”

“What is it with you and the crazy chicks, Derek?” Erica asks, her voice dripping with disdain.

“Hey, Paige was not crazy, she was just...fixated.” The doorbell rings again and Derek cringes. “Can we just pretend we're not home?”

“Derek,” Kira scolds, “you can't leave her standing on the doorstep, that's rude.”

“So is inviting yourself to Thanksgiving dinner when you were explicitly told you weren't wanted,” Erica snaps.

“I'll get rid of her,” Derek promises, getting to his feet. He stops behind the front door and takes a deep breath to steel himself before he opens it, making sure to keep his body from blocking any entry.

He's completely unsurprised to find Jennifer standing on the stoop, he is a little surprised to see her puffy red eyes and the pale pallor of her skin.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his concern for his friend overriding his annoyance for a few minutes.

She sniffs. “I'm sorry, I just...I needed to see you.”

“Why? What happened?”

She falters, like she wasn't expecting to be questioned. “Um, I just...I needed to see you.” She repeats it, like she thinks he didn't hear her or understand her the first time.

“It's Thanksgiving, Jennifer; we're in the middle of dinner.”

She runs her eyes along the length of his body, taking in the ratty, faded plaid pj bottoms and the t-shirt with Captain American's shield that he's had since he was sixteen. He doesn't bother trying to explain himself, though; what he does in the privacy of his own him with his friends is his business.

“Can I just come in for a second? I just want to talk, I swear, I'll only be a few minutes.”

Reluctantly, Derek steps back and lets Jennifer inside, closing the door behind her. She sniffles again and gives Derek a watery smile.

“You think maybe I can clean up a little before we talk?”

Derek grinds his teeth but nods anyway, leading her down the hall to the bathroom and leaving her to it with a nod of his head.

Erica is waiting her him just inside the door when he makes it back to the living room.

“I know,” he preempts, holding up a hand to stave her off. “She was crying and she looked really upset. I couldn't turn her away.”

Erica shakes her head in disappointment and stalks back to her place on the couch next to Kira, picking up her spag bol and eating angrily.

Derek has never actually seen anyone angrily eating. It's impressive.

The movie is still paused on the TV and Derek stares at the static image as the minutes tick by, growing more and more annoyed the longer Jennifer stays in the bathroom.

Finally, after more almost fifteen minutes, he loses his patience and stalks down the hallway to the bathroom.

The door is cracked open, not closed all the way to the jamb, and through the gap, Derek can see Jennifer, standing in front of the mirror in only her lacy purple bra. One arm is raised above her head as she examines something in the mirror and in the other hand she's holding some sort of brush.

Confused and his anger growing, Derek pushes the door open all the way. “What the hell are you doing?”

She jumps, startled, and she knocks over a jar or pot or something and Derek watches as it shatters on the tile floor, red staining the whiteness.

“What-” Derek cuts himself off when he pulls his eyes away from the floor and back to Jennifer and he notices something peeking out from beneath the band of her bra.

Something overtakes him and he stalks forward on his socked feet.

“Derek!” she tries, but he ignores her as he reaches for her bra, something in the back of his mind telling him that he is so far out of line for even contemplating this, but he does it anyway, hooking his fingers under the purple fabric and yanking it upwards. He exposes her breast and she cries out, but Derek's eyes are glued to the small mark he's fully uncovered. The small broken star that looks exactly like the one on Derek's body.

Jennifer squirms, trying to pull away, but Derek moves his hand from her bra to grip her arm, holding her in place. 

Slowly, he lifts his free hand, his thumb hovering over the mark. His hand is shaking, but he doesn't know why.

“Don't,” Jennifer pleads, “please.”

Derek presses his thumb to the fuller side of the star and drags it down.

It smudges.

She pulls out of his grasp and fixes herself. “Derek, I was just-”

“How dare you,” Derek says, his voice cold, “how dare you try to use something so...so precious and personal to...to...” he trails off, lost. “I don't even know what your plan here was.”

“I just...we would be so good together, Derek. We're so compatible, we'd make a wonderful couple. But I knew that I couldn't have that with you, not the way I wanted, not without you thinking...”

“So you were going to _pretend_ to be my soulmate? For the rest of our lives? How did you think this would possibly work?”

“Not...not forever,” she says with a pained smile. “I thought, after a while, maybe a few years, I could explain.”

“You could explain how you _lied_? How you tricked me into...into _marrying_ you?!”

“No, Derek, it wouldn't have been like that! Please don't think of it that way!”

“Get out,” he tells her, his voice flat and emotionless.

“Derek, please, you know it's true. We both got fucked over in the soul-marks department, this is our only chance to be happy!”

Derek stares at her, honestly not comprehending the words that are coming out of her mouth. “I can't stand to look at you. I don't ever want to see you again, now _get out of my house!_ ”

There's a bustle of movement from the front of the house and Derek's friends are suddenly standing in the bathroom doorway.

“You heard him,” Erica all but growls, “get your ass out of our house.”

Jennifer's eyes harden as she looks at the three of them. “I really don't think any of this concerns any of you, so if you don't mind, this is between me and Derek.”

“There is no you and Derek!” Derek screams, and Jennifer backs up into the counter. “You are nothing but a manipulative woman who can't stand not getting her own way! Get out!”

Jennifer's gaze flits between them for a few seconds before she nods, almost to herself. “I'll give you a little time to cool off. Please call me when you can talk about this like a normal person.”

She grabs her shirt and stalks past all of them, her head held high like Derek is the one in the wrong in this situation.

Derek waits until the front door slams closed before the lets the tension drain from his shoulders and he turns to his friends.

“I'm going to need someone to block her number in my phone. I don't know how to do that.”

Isaac turns and heads back to the living room, hopefully to do just that, while the girls crowd close and hug him.

“Are you okay?” Kira asks gently and Derek shakes his head.

“I think I want to go home.”

For the first time in two years, Derek knows the words – and the sentiment – are true.

  
  


///

  
  


The problem with wanting to go home is...it's already Thanksgiving and Derek has finals before Christmas break and he honestly doesn't know how he's going to get through this.

His friends pull around him again, they help him out exactly as they did back when he had his first emotional meltdown. They help him study, make sure he knows what assignments he has due and when, and, as a thank you, he takes the three of them home with him for Christmas.

  
  


///

  
  


When Derek pulls up the driveway of his family home, he takes a moment to note that not much has changed in the few years he's been away. The house has had a little bit of a makeover, the trim gray now, rather than the white it had been when he'd left. But other than that, it's like he was never gone.

He parks and his friends all file out, cooing over the size of his home and grabbing their bags from the trunk, while Derek sits behind the wheel for a few seconds and just breathes.

Then the front door opens and Derek's mom is standing on the porch, looking down at him. She looks nervous, like she's afraid Derek's going to just drive away, but she's trying to smile through it and Derek feels like a tool.

Slowly, with a few more deep breaths, Derek gets out of the car.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she says, her voice shaking and Derek musters a weak smile for her.

“Hi, Mom.”

She makes a choking sound and practically flies down the porch steps to hug him. Derek would feel embarrassed that his friends are having to watch him have a tearful reunion with his mother, but mostly he just feels embarrassed at the fact that he allowed his pride keep him from coming home for so long.

Talia pulls away and wipes at Derek's cheeks and it's only then that he realizes that his mother isn't the only one who's crying.

“Now,” she says with a decisive nod, and she turns a more genuine smiles on Erica, Kira and Isaac. “I have the guest rooms all set up for you, so let's go get you all settled in before dinner. Cora's cooking, so that should at least be entertaining if it's not edible.”

His friends laugh politely, but Derek only frowns. “Cora's home already?” The last he'd heard, her semester at Berkeley wasn't over for a few more days.

“Yes, when she heard you were coming home this year, she and St-” Talia cuts herself off with a pained grimace. “She decided to cut a few classes so that she could leave early to be here to see you.”

Derek knows that Cora is at Berkeley with Stiles, knows they're friends and see each other every day, because, while his sisters and the rest of his family are respectful of what he's been through and they try to keep updates and images of Stiles away from him, Derek is still a masochist at heart and he still regularly visits Stiles' Facebook page and he knows more about his old friend that is possibly healthy.

But his family are unaware of his stalker tendencies – though his friends are completely aware and all of them disapprove – and so they're probably thinking that they're doing him a favor by keeping Stiles out of the conversation.

Derek doesn't really want to convince them otherwise.

  
  


///

  
  


When Derek goes on a drive around the neighborhood later that night, he doesn't drive past Stile's house twelve times, doesn't stare at the familiar Jeep parked in the driveway, because that would be crazy and Derek's not crazy.

He might be obsessed, though.

  
  


///

  
  


Derek's sisters love Erica, Kira and Isaac, they treat them like long lost family members and it kind of makes Derek feel a little bit proud of himself, like he chose these people well – even though he technically didn't choose them at all. They were thrust upon him by UC Irvine's housing department.

In fact, Cora, Laura and Laura's soulmate, Greg, love the new comers so much that they decide they want to take them out on their second night in Beacon Hills so that they can see the town, so that they can point out all the embarrassing locations of Derek's childhood. They happily agree, Erica asking for photographic evidence of Derek's past fashion mistakes for some reason and Laura swipes the photo album from the bookcase in the hallway on their way out the door. 

Derek begs off. Talia's sister, Derek's aunt, Eliza, and her soulmate, Alex, have stopped by with their toddler, Eliot. Derek hasn't seen him since he was a few months old and he's excited to spend some time with him now that he's grown slightly, toddling about on wobbly feet and spouting off all the words he's managed to learn.

That is until the moment Derek spins him in the air, playing a helicopter game, and Eliot throws up all over him.

Eliza apologizes profusely, but Derek waves her off, knowing that it's his own fault for playing such a stupid game.

He takes a shower, standing under the hot water of his childhood bathroom, washing off the vomit and he's hit with a powerful memory, of Stiles scoffing an entire ice cream cake that was supposed to be for Laura's eleventh birthday party. Claudia had scolded Stiles and Stiles had responded by throwing up every little bit of that cake all over his mother and then Derek for good measure. 

He'd never eaten ice cream cake again. Or, at least, as far as Derek knows he hasn't.

He knew that going home would make his whole philosophy of ignoring anything and everything that reminded him of Stiles almost and impossibility, but he hadn't realized just how hard that was going to be.

He turns the shower off and climbs out of the stall, grabbing hold of the black towel he left hanging on the rail as he heads for the door. He doesn't bother drying off, just secures the towel around his waist so that he knows it won't fall down in the middle of the hallway and makes his way to his room.

He digs his toes into the soft, luxurious carpet his mother has chosen for the upstairs hallways as he walks to his room. It's different than it was when he left for college, a dark navy blue rather than the gray it had been for most of his middle school and high school years. 

Derek feels suddenly ashamed of how much of his family's life he missed. 

Pushing the feelings aside, he goes back to his room to hunt for some clean clothes in the duffle bag he still hasn't unpacked. He's a little curious about the clothes he left behind when he first moved to college, the clothes and things he had thought he'd be coming back to by Thanksgiving of that first year. He'd be hard pressed right now to remember what any of them actually were.

Instead of stumbling down memory lane right now, turns to where he left the bag of clothes he did bring with him, pulling off the towel as he goes.

"Butt," someone giggles, startling Derek into almost dropping it. "Spot," the voice continues.

Derek whirls around to find Eliot sitting in the middle of his bed, playing with his toes.

He sighs. "Eliot, what are you doing in here? Does your mom know where you are?"

"Butt," Eliot says again. "Spot."

Derek frowns. "What are you talking about?"

Eliot points towards Derek's towel. "There a spot on you butt, Deek."

Derek runs his hands over the fabric covering his behind. He doesn't feel anything. "No, I don't."

Eliot pouts. "Do to. I saw it, I sawed it!"

Derek holds up his hands, placating the boy. "Alright, alright, I believe you, okay?"

"Why's it there?"

"I don't...um..." Derek frowns, unable to answer his cousin because he doesn't actually know what his cousin is talking about. But Eliot is convinced he saw something, so Derek crosses the room to his closet and pulls open the door. It blocks his view of Eliot on the bed, but there's a full length mirror hanging there and he needs to know what Eliot saw.

With one last glance at the boy on his bed – he's playing with his toes again – Derek turns around, puts his back to the mirror and drops the towel.

And promptly lets out a yell that causes Eliot to start crying and footsteps to pound on the stairs.

“Derek?” His mother's voice reaches him first, followed by his father's then his uncle Peter's.

“What is it?”

“What's happened?”

“Is everything alright?”

Derek swallows hard against the lump that has suddenly swollen up in his throat. “Can someone please tell me why there's an anchor on my ass?”

He peers out from behind the door to see his mother holding a still crying Eliot and his father and Peter standing in front of him. All four of them look confused.

“What does that mean?” Spencer asks delicately.

“I mean, there is a mark on my right ass cheek that is in the shape of an anchor and I want to know how it got there, please.”

Spencer and peter share a look before Spencer clears his throat and takes a step forward.

“Okay, let's...um, let me see?”

Mortified, Derek turns around and drops the towel that he's hastily covered himself with when his family burst through his bedroom door and turns around so that his back is to his father.

“Um...wow, okay, that's...that's an anchor,” Spencer says, his voice carefully neutral.

“What does that mean?” Derek asks. He spots a pair of old sweatpants sitting on the shelf of his closet and he hastily pulls them on before he follows his father back into the main area of his bedroom. They're too short.

“Butt,” Eliot says when he sees him again and Derek rolls his eyes before he focuses back on the adults.

“What the hell does this mean? Why do I have two soul-marks?” Because Derek's under no illusions that the anchor on his behind is a soul-mark.

Peter clears his throat. “The one you found when you were a teenager, it's in your armpit, yes? You've looked at it recently?”

Derek raises his arm, shows his uncle the coarse black hair that's grown there since he quit the swim team. The only part of the soul-mark visible is the bottom point of the broken end of the star.

Peter nods. “Does anyone have any clippers?”

And that's how Derek finds himself standing in the middle of the bathroom again, this time with his uncle and father standing over his shoulder while he clips the hair under his armpit.

“Um...” Derek starts when he hair is finally gone enough to see the mark, “why does it look different?” The mark is twisted and longer, looking less like a star and more like a blob, like someone took the skin and stretched it.

“I was afraid of this,” Peter says quietly and Derek whirls to face him.

“Explain.”

Peter takes a deep breath. “I think the mark in your armpit is nothing more than a normal birth mark.”

Derek blinks, like his mind has gone offline. “What.” He can't even muster enough to put an inflection on the end of the word. 

Peter levels him with a look that could strip paint from the wall. “Surely, Derek, you know what a normal birth mark is.”

“Yes, but they're usually just a blob or something. They don't have a shape!”

Spencer squints. “To be fair, this one doesn't really have much of a shape either.”

“It did at the time! We thought it was a broken star to remind us of Stiles'-” Derek trails off, all the blood draining from his face as the implications of not knowing just what exactly his soul-mark was actually sank in. “Oh, God, Stiles.”

Spencer winces and Derek knows...he just knows.

“It was Stiles, wasn't it? It's been Stiles all along.”

“We don't know for sure,” Spencer says, aiming for calming and missing by a wide margin, “but he did say that it didn't match yours and we know from Cora that he hasn't found his soulmate yet.”

Peter chooses that moment to burst out laughing and the two other Hale men turn to glare at him.

“What the hell is so fucking funny about this?!” Derek yells at his uncle.

Peter giggles some more before he manages to find the ability to speak. “I'm sorry, it's just...you could have lost out on finding your soulmate because you never checked out your own ass.”

Derek just stares at his father and uncle for a moment, completely incapable of forming speech, before he shoves past them and runs back to his room. 

His mother is still sitting on his bed, playing with Eliot – he has no idea where Eliza and Alex have gone – and he just looks at her for a second, not really sure what it is he wants to say.

Talia smiles at him. “Stiles and Cora came home for the holidays yesterday. They've been fighting since they left about whether he and his father are going to join us this year, since you're back. He doesn't think you'd want him here. Cora thinks he's an idiot. Maybe he'll listen to you.”

Derek doesn't stop to ask any further questions, just lifts the first shirt he lays his hand on, shrugs it on and runs out of the house.

It's not until he's in the car, on the way to Stiles' house that Derek realizes he's not wearing any shoes.

  
  


///

  
  


Once he makes it to Stiles' house, Derek sits behind the wheel of his car and just stares. 

He can't believe it's been so long since he was last here, especially when he considers how much it hasn't actually changed. Just like everything else in Beacon Hills.

Derek considers that he himself has changed a great deal, to find that nothing else has is disconcerting to him.

The sheriff's cruiser is gone, just that ugly blue Jeep that Stiles loves so much sitting in the driveway, just like the day before. Derek is a little surprised that the thing is still running, honestly, but it's nice to see it still there.

He takes a moment to breathe a center himself. He pictures himself walking up the front path, ringing the doorbell, shuffling from foot to foot as he waits for someone to answer, Stiles finally pulling open the door.

Stiles slamming the door closed in his face, because, really, why would he even want to look at Derek after all these years, never mind actually want to have a conversation with him?

Derek knows he's not going to get in through the front door. So when he finally manages to make himself get out of his car, he heads around the back of the house and he stands beneath the window he knows leads to Stiles' bedroom.

His memory immediately goes back to their childhood, to the many times he climbed in through this very window. He had it down to a science by the time they were in high school, up the tree to the second lowest branch, shuffle along to the window, slide it up, hop on to the sill and then into the room.

Except, in all the many times he's done it, he's never had to do it without any shoes.

It hurts, he's not going to lie. The bark scrapes against his feet and he grits his teeth against the pain, but he continues. If he chickens out of this now, he doesn't know how long it'll be before he can convince himself to come back. If he'd taken even a second to think about Stiles' reaction to seeing him again after all these years, he might not have left the house at all.

Finally, he makes it to the limb level with the window and he sits there for a second to get his breath back. He maybe a college basketball star, but that is a far cry from climbing a huge fucking tree.

His feet are throbbing.

Looking over at the window, Derek's breath catches in his throat, because Stiles is inside, Derek can see his feet where he's lounging on the bed, probably reading or watching something on his laptop.

Derek hadn't really planned on what he would do if Stiles was actually in the room – all of his plans had been geared towards getting into the room, not what happened afterwards.

But he's come this far, turning back now would be pathetic, even for Derek.

So he boosts himself over to the sill, slides the window open, and slips inside.

Stiles is wearing headphones, eyes glued to the screen of his laptop, he hasn't noticed Derek yet, so Derek just stands there, awkward and out of place, and waits for Stiles to notice him.

It doesn't take long, Derek's presence upsetting the air in the room or something, his shadow changing the light, because Stiles looks right at him less than a minute later, and flails so hard he falls off the bed.

“Holy shit! What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?!” he screams from the floor, getting tangled in the wires of his headphones. He pauses and looks back up, like he's just realizing who exactly is standing in the middle of his bedroom.

His face closes off, like he's shutting Derek out. Derek can't really express how much that hurts, but he supposes he's brought it on himself.

“What the hell are you doing here, jackass?”

He supposes he brought that in himself, too. Just because he'd assumed Stiles wasn't his soulmate, Stiles was still his best friend, and Derek had abandoned him.

Stiles has every right to be upset. And Derek knows now that, whatever happens after this conversation, the ball is entirely in Stiles' court.

“I have to...um...I have to talk to you about something.”

If possible, Stiles' face closes down even more. “Seriously, Derek, you didn't need to come to me in person to tell me you've found your soulmate. You could have just told Cora to tell me.”

“Cora doesn't know I'm here.” Because, yes, Derek, that's the thing that he needs to be focusing on right now.

Stiles just rolls his eyes and starts getting back to his feet. Then he pauses. “What are...Derek, you feet are bleeding, are you kidding me?” His eyes flick from Derek to the window and back again several times. “You climbed up that fucking tree in your bare feet, are you serious right now?” He shakes his head and guides Derek to the bed, making him sit down. “Wait here while I go get some stuff to clean you up. Idiot.”

Derek grabs him by the wrist before he can take more than a step. “Wait, no, I have to talk to you about this.”

“No, you don't, Derek, seriously. I came to terms with this a long time ago. Honestly, I thought it would happen a lot sooner, but I guess the universe just wants to prolong the agony just a little bit longer.”

“You're my soulmate,” Derek blurts out before Stiles can say anything else.

But Stiles just rolls his eyes. “No, Derek, we went through this, remember? I told you, my mark doesn't match yours.”

“It doesn't match the broken star, no, but I've recently found out that that might not be my soul-mark.”

“You're lying.”

Derek just shrugs.

Stiles gapes, his mouth dropping open. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Well...I mean...what?”

Derek raises his arm and pulls down the sleeve of his t-shirt so that Stiles can see the mark there.

“It's changed. How can it change? It's not supposed to change!”

“Peter thinks it's just a birthmark, like...not a soul-mark.”

“WHAT?!”

Derek winces at the volume of Stiles' voice.

“Well, where the hell is your soul-mark? What is it!?”

Derek blushes. “It's, um...it's on my ass.”

Stiles laughs, loudly, his anger curtailed for a second. “Mine is next to my dick.”

Derek chews on his lip, unsure whether he should ask to see, or even just ask what it is. He's aware he has no right now, he burned every bridge with Stiles, but he can't help it. He has hopefulness back, his future has started to look a little bit brighter since Eliot pointed out the mark on his butt.

So, instead, Derek gets to his feet, turns his back to Stiles and drops his pants.

There's silence behind him, Stiles doesn't make a sound as Derek stands there with his sweatpants around his knees growing more and more awkward the longer Stiles says quiet.

Finally, Derek's embarrassment gets the better of him and he pulls his pants back up and turns face whatever wrath he's going to get from Stiles.

He's not expecting the punch Stiles throws at him and he's glad the bed is behind him, giving him a soft landing when he goes flying.

“You fucking asshole! You've been my soulmate this whole time and you just didn't know?!”

“I'm sorry, I thought the star was my soul-mark! I didn't know it wasn't.”

“You didn't know you had a fucking anchor on your ass? It's your ass, Derek! You practically live in locker rooms, didn't someone fucking tell you!?”

“I don't know when the last time you checked your own ass out in the mirror was, Stiles, but it's not really something I make a habit of. And, locker rooms? Have you ever actually been in one? Guys tend to keep there eyes to themselves. No one's ever going to say 'hey, Hale, did you know you have and anchor on your right ass cheek? By the way, can you pass the soap?' Get real, Stiles.”

“Well, what about all those girls you dated?”

“What girls? I dated one girl, Stiles, we slept together exactly one time and my ass wasn't exactly the main point of the activity!” Derek takes a deep breath. “And what about you, anyway? You couldn't have told me that your mark was an anchor?”

“What would the point of that be? I thought it didn't match yours, that was pretty much the end of...well, everything at that point.”

Derek slumps down against the bed clothes. “I almost flunked out of school.”

Stiles nods. “I didn't leave this room for almost two weeks. Scott and my dad had to trick me so that they could get me to shower. I was a mess.”

Derek looks up at him and smiles. “I guess that should have been a big clue, huh? Normal people don't react like that when they find out someone they know doesn't have a matching soul-mark. You know, I was gonna try anyway. With you, I mean. I kept thinking about all those people who don't find their soulmate and get married anyway. I thought we could do that.”

“I thought that, too. I had this plan, you know? If neither of us had found our soulmates by the time I was twenty-one, I was gonna ask you to marry me. Or, well...date me, I guess. Go back to how we were, something.”

Derek nods, thinking back to all the times he'd talked himself out of that plan, berating himself for being selfish, for trying to keep Stiles from finding his soulmate by literally hitching their wagons together.

How much time would he have saved if he'd gone along with that plan? How much sooner would they have found the mark on his behind and come to this realization, that they were soulmates after all?

They've wasted a lot of time, two whole years of their lives. That's a lot to catch up on.

Derek looks around Stiles' bedroom, something else that hasn't really changed much since the last time Derek was in it, except the random UC Berkeley paraphernalia that's creeping in at the edges.

It's so far away from UC Irvine, but that's something Derek can't think about right now.

“I really screwed up our plans,” Stiles says, following Derek's eye to the sweater on the back of his desk chair. He sits down on the bed, so close to Derek that there isn't any space between them.

Derek's never felt more comfortable.

Ha shakes his head. “You need to be somewhere that's going to help you succeed. I was never really comfortable with you sacrificing your education and your future just so that we could be close. We're soulmates, Stiles, doesn't matter where you go to college, that's not going to change.”

Besides, Derek's only got a year and a half left, they'll both come home for every holiday and break. It'll be fine.

Stiles is grinning at him and Derek frowns, confused. “What?”

“You called us soulmates,” he says with glee, bouncing in place the way he used to do when he was little and he was waiting for dessert at the dinner table.

Derek rolls his eyes. “Well, it's true, isn't it?”

“I don't know. You know, technically, I haven't actually shown you my mark yet. There are people out there who have had similar marks; an arrow that's pointing in a different direction, a star with six points instead of five. What if my anchor has, like, a rope around it or something?”

Derek didn't actually spend all that much time looking at his own mark, just long enough to take in the general shape before he started freaking out. He has no idea if his anchor has a rope, a starfish, stripes – he'll there could be a mermaid swimming around it for all Derek knows.

But the way Stiles is grinning at him, he's pretty sure his has none of those things.

“Hey, when's your dad home?” he asks casually, rearranging himself on the bed so that he's leaning up against the pillows.

“He's at work until two and then he's meeting with your folks to see if they can sort our Christmas dinner, since someone decided to not only come home this year, but bring three other people along with him. You've really put a kink in the plans.”

“I'm sure we'll be able to make due,” Derek grins. “In the mean time, how about we compare those soul-marks? I think I'd like to make absolutely sure they march before we head down to the courthouse and make it all official. I'd hate to be let down again. I'm thinking it's probably best that we get second opinions and hold off on registering until after the new year.”

Stiles grins and his hands reach for the buckle of his belt. “Who the hell are you kidding, Hale? You want to head down to the courthouse right now, don't even front with me.”

Derek shakes his head. “No, actually, there's one thing I would like to do first.”

When Stiles finally sheds his jeans, Derek has no doubts.

Their soul-marks match – right down to the tiny piece of seaweed clinging to one point of the anchor.

Their soul-marks aren't perfect, but then again, neither are they.

  
  


  


  



End file.
